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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26383582">the hand that lights the way</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/disasteroid/pseuds/disasteroid'>disasteroid</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>TWRP | Tupper Ware Remix Party (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fate &amp; Destiny, Gen, I have no idea if I will finish this, Parallel Universes, old space gods, this is my first fic ever so if its bad i am sorry</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 08:54:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,740</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26383582</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/disasteroid/pseuds/disasteroid</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>There is a story that is strung across galaxies, a cautionary tale of the hand of fate and the power it wields. It is a story of fear, and of humility and futility alike. A story as old as time itself, dark and regal as the gaps between the stars, an endless repeat of endless similarity. There is a story that begins and ends with the same cosmic heartbeat.</p><p>However, this is not that story. This is the story of those who dared to fight it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. prelude</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>From the moment of its creation, the planet Chronofos was fated to die. In every timeline, in every possible conceivable path of any universe, it would be wiped from history. No survivors. The playful hands of ancient gods work in mysterious ways, and sometimes all that power leads inevitably to… collateral damage. In the grand scheme of things, this planet was nothing. Simply another tiny speck among infinite specks, a side effect of the universe's endlessness. This tragic kingdom should be forgotten by all, faded into nothingness in its own symbolic heat death. It should be nothing, mean nothing, have no impact on the rest of space and time. </p><p>Or at least it would be.</p><p>If not for him. </p><p> </p><p>~~~~</p><p> </p><p>From the start of his eons-long existence, Doctor Sung fostered a healthy distaste for the Fates. His philosophy was, and had been for as long as he could remember (which was not very long) that fate and destiny and all that other crap was frankly, a whole lot of bullshit. A strong believer in carving your own path and creating a future for yourself, he never feared celestial meddling in the way he had heard whispers of across the cosmos, choosing to ignore them for pursuit of a wider goal. </p><p> </p><p>Although he didn't believe in destiny, Sung did believe in one constant - that he had a purpose. He would strenuously deny that this disproved his stance on fate when asked, but something, somewhere deep within the loneliest parts of his soul, called out to him with a tenacity that his stubborn nature respected and feared. While his studies of martial combat, engineering and organic anatomy kept him busy enough to fill his days with intrigue and adventure, the night brought a vulnerability that he was determined to keep hidden. Yet, as he watched the setting of countless suns across numberless skies, this <em> thing </em>, this dark, insidious longing… it filled him up with impatience. A call so powerful that on yet another achingly-long night, pacing the decks of his quietly-humming ship, Doctor Sung closed his eyes, wrenched away the barriers inside him, and let the call wash over him. A roar clashed in his ears as he struggled to stand, wrestling and clawing and biting at him until-</p><p> </p><p>Darkness. The crashing of waves on a sandy shore. The jubilant cry of seabirds carving lines through the night sky. It is here, on the edge of existence, that Doctor Sung will find his path.</p><p> </p><p>~~~~</p><p> </p><p>From the dawn of time itself, she has watched over the clamouring chaos of the material world, weaving threads of fate in a glorious glowing tapestry, and gazing upon their effects on the carpet of stars and planets behind her eyes. Each stitch is woven into spacetime, so strongly embedded in the future even she would have trouble unravelling its course. This is the way it has always been, her every action reflecting in the twinkling map of everything that only she can see. </p><p> </p><p>She sets her needle down for a second to survey her work, checking on the progression of events she had planned. One star born, another dies in heat and passion. She smooths her hand over the stitches and moves on. Ah. One of her ongoing projects. The black curling wisps of darkness are close now, reaching towards the little green marble hanging there unawares. Yes, they wouldn't see it until it was too late, she presumed. A rushed and harried flare of realisation and panic would ensue, a futile attempt to fight back against the inevitable for longer than is logical. Then, at the last second before Chronofos is gone forever, the people will realise there is nothing they can do. </p><p> </p><p>Textbook really, if you think about it. </p><p> </p><p>She's seen it infinite times before, the living reacting the same way every time. In fact, if she could she would be bored by now. She <em> is </em> tired of the constant mundanity of the apocalypse, and Chronofos is no different, surely? </p><p> </p><p>Her eyes land upon a tiny yellow spark, fizzing and dancing towards the verdant globe, moving unlike any of her precise machinations. What is this minute entity borne of chaos? Why is it descending on the very planet about to be erased from time? Why does it even exist when she did not give it purpose to? </p><p> </p><p>This was never part of the plan. </p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>hey thanks for reading! if you liked it/hated it/felt nothing about it please let me know in the comments! this is my first ever fic so theres def a lot i can improve on so any feedback is greatly appreciated &lt;3 see you in the next one!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. paradise</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sand. Infinite grains of fucking sand, prickling and tickling at him like tiny ants. </p><p>Pain. Dull sickening aches across his whole form, pinning him to the ground. </p><p>Smoke. The telltale smell of- wait. Smoke? </p><p>Suddenly he came to, face down on a beach fuck-knows-where, still wearing his favourite yellow silk pyjamas judging by the smoothness against his skin. Sung slowly pressed his hands into the shifting ground, and excruciatingly hauled himself up to a sitting position. He opened his eyes, eyelashes blinking away yet more sand as his eyes quickly adjusted to the light. </p><p>Two shimmering silver moons hanging limply in the dark blue sky, framed by stars brighter than seemed normal for a planet anywhere near where he had been travelling. As he scanned the sky for any signs of familiar patterns or nearby planets, a feeling of cold, acidic dread settled in his stomach, tugging at him and drawing his gaze to the space just past his field of vision. He felt himself start to lose his grip on the little consciousness he had regained, but pushed hard against it, dragging his eyes away and downwards to escape the odd, black-hole pull of whatever this was. </p><p>A sea of dark stony teal, whipped up by the wind dancing playfully across its surface, hummed under the hypnotic carpet of light above him. As he watched, tiny lights meandered just under the surface before quickly darting back down into the depths. Beyond where it crashes into the shore, rolling black sand billows outwards, tiny shiny specks catching the moons' light and mimicking the stars above their heads. To the left, something smoking? </p><p>Oh shit. </p><p>His small travel pod lay mostly intact, shoved unceremoniously in the sand. While the hull and glass seemed intact, the engine compartment glowed with the mocking orange of a long-forgotten fire, the acrid scent of burned metal filling his nostrils. He had crash-landed the simplest piloting system he had ever implemented into a craft. What the fuck had he been thinking during whatever clearly stupid thing he did in the night? </p><p>Just as this thought crossed his mind, that tiny persistent thing (yes, that must have been what had caused this whole debacle) arose in his mind again, yelling as if indignant at his last thought. </p><p>Pssst. </p><p>Turn around. </p><p>Hey. Do it. </p><p>His still-sore body protested as he swung himself around, a grumble ready on his lips threatening to shatter the silence. </p><p>But then he sees the real world he had landed upon. </p><p>Sweeping away from him towards the cold horizon was a huge dancing mass of a living forest, twirling effortlessly towards the floodlit sky. Huge ancient trees stretch hundreds of feet above the ground, the serene faces of old spirits sighing and creaking in the warm languid breeze. Crystalline birds in vivid shades of purple, orange and blue chime and chirp in the branches, their calls resonating through the valley and reverberating as part of a sonorous soundscape effortlessly harmonised between nature's voices. Glowing fireflies and impish wisps dart through the gaps in the trees, laughing between their leafy boughs and disappearing into the boundless green. Far beyond the forest, crowning over its jubilant head, an opulent shimmering city scattered across jagged mountainsides, a glowing marble palace sitting regally atop the largest peak. </p><p>Of all the worlds he had found himself on, this was surely one of the most beautiful. </p><p>The feeling in his chest pulled once more as he gazed upon the city past the trees, glittering high above him in the stark moonlight. It was a beautiful sight - crafted delicately from coloured glass, white marble and silver that shone stoically upon its cascading façades. Sung knew that for some reason, he was meant to go there. Whoever or whatever was making this weird feeling inside him meant for him to go there, and so go there he would. </p><p>Plus, there had to be someone in that place who could help mend his pod. </p><p>So, he stood slowly, wincing as his body protested. He dusted off the sand from his pyjamas, straightened his cone, and set off down the path through the forest. </p><p> </p><p>The path was smooth packed earth under his bare feet, and reassuring solid after the sandy beach. If he had thought the noise from the woods was beautiful before, it was nothing compared to the full-body experience of being surrounded in it. The musician in him was astounded at the complex beauty of it, strange otherworldly harmony smoothly moving and changing spontaneously through haunting patterns, lilting melodies soaring boldly over the thick wall of sound. He walked on through the trees, whistling along as he strode down the path. He was so caught up in the overwhelming fullness of it all that he barely saw the creature that blocked his path before crashing into it. </p><p>It was a young deer, like any other save for its over-large, pupil-less silver eyes that gazed upon him imperiously. </p><p>"Oh hey! What's going little guy? Do you want a pet?" Sung reached out his hand towards its head. In a snap, it turned its head and hit his hand away with its antlers, then spoke to him in a careful voice. </p><p>"You ought to be careful, reaching out for people like that. You never know who could be who, around these parts. You're lucky I don't pick on those who clearly don't know what they're doing." They stated, blank eyes narrowed. </p><p>"Shit, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to - sorry. And thank you for the concern, but I think I'll be okay. I've seen a few weird planets in my time." he replied. </p><p>"Well. If you're sure." they said and turned to walk away. As they began to fade into the forest they turned around. </p><p>"Be careful. You know as well as I do that there is something coming. It might not spare you either."</p><p>As the deer walked away, Sung turned his head to the sky and its deceptive beauty. </p><p>It almost felt like he was being watched.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>thank you so much for reading the second chapter! as before, if you have thoughts i'd love to hear them in the comments :D</p><p>see you all whenever i write more of this!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. palace</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As he approached the mountain where the city lay, Sung began to feel a heady mixture of nerves and excitement. A whole new planet, with an advanced civilisation he had never come across before, with stories and culture and history! He longed to rush up the stone steps cut into the cliffs and introduce himself to them all, but… he couldn't shake the weird deer's strange words. There was something not quite right about this place, and he didn't want to get in too deep into anything dangerous. He just wanted to get some parts to fix his pod, rest for a while until his body ached a little less, and get back to the usual routine. </p><p>That is, if this weird feeling inside him would let him. </p><p>He reached the base of the cliff, and stared up at the rock reaching high above him. He stepped onto the first step, an elegantly made silver handrail stretching around the corner and out of sight. As he climbed upwards, he began to hear the quiet sound of wind chimes, whipped up by the brusque mountain gales. He scaled the steps in quiet contemplation, mind eased by the calm music wafting down from above him. Reaching the top, the imposing sight of two huge gates made of fancily gilded silvery metal stood before him, two identical knights in exotic armour standing guard in front of them. Sung wondered how strict their entry policy was. </p><p>Well, there was only one way to find out. </p><p>He strode off the staircase and towards the high white marble wall topped with shimmering technicolour glass, face plastered with his most genuine smile and sunglasses perched firmly on his nose, waving happily to the stoic figures as he approached. Their helmets completely covered their faces, but he could tell they were smiling underneath them-</p><p>"No entry." A robotic voice stated. Sung suddenly came to realise that he was at the end of a pointy sword-kinda thing that looked very dangerous, so he abandoned his "friendly space diplomat" vibe and instead adopted a "very scared, very lost tourist" persona. </p><p>"H-hey! Sorry for the uh- intrusion there bud! I'm gonna be on my way so…" He tried to back away. </p><p>"The Asiminos Citadel is not open to outsiders." a similar voice from behind him said, pressing their metal blade to his neck.<br/>
He was surrounded. Two against one. Shit. </p><p>Sung inwardly sighed. He hated having to do this. He squirmed until both guards were looking at his face, and lowered his shades. </p><p>He knew what it was they were seeing, the whites of his eyes so piercingly bright they could have held stardust, and swirling black pools curling inwards like black holes. He knew that it would be impossible for them to look away, drawn in by the unfathomably dark darkness against unnervingly bright brightness. He knew, as well, what happened next. </p><p>He heard them slump to the floor before he saw it, the glare from his own eyes temporarily blocking out the world around him. He lowered his shades, cutting off the light and checked on the knights. It took him a while to tell through the layers of platemail, but they were unconscious. Phew. He propped them up against the wall so they looked as if they had been napping on the job, and walked on through the slightly ajar gates, into what he now knew was the Asiminos Citadel. </p><p>The immediate wave of sound hitting him made him take a step back. There had to be some kind of sound barrier surrounding the city, because there was so much more to hear here than wind chimes. Their quiet drone continued, subtitling a chorus of city hubbub. People chatted excitedly, albeit all in robotic voices. Street vendors announced their wares by playing tiny instruments over the wind, magically amplified to draw customers into their stores. A platoon of soldiers practiced sword combat in the courtyard of the castle, their superior barking out orders in a harsh monotone. As he gazed upon them, Sung realised the people walking the streets were as interesting as the sounds they made. They were an avian-adjacent people, with elegant, streamlined bone structure and the poise of those with flight in their blood. They all had skin with a curious pearlescent sheen in a myriad of pastel colours that faded into large feathery wings in shades of grey, cream and brown on their backs. Tiny fluffy feathers of the same colour at their hairlines blended into hair that most seemed to keep long, simply braided with coloured glass beads and silver twine. They had long ears that stretched backwards and upwards towards the top of their heads, as if part of their flying mechanism. </p><p>But, perhaps the most unusual feature of the people of Chronofos were their eyes. </p><p>Their eyes seemed barely like eyes at all, more like huge glassy panels smoothly curved into their faces. At first glance, they seemed like screens, but no pixels made them up. Across each person's eyes danced colours and words and pictures, often moving too fast for Sung to make out, fluid and beautiful movements that he guessed echoed the thought patterns of an individual. Joy, sadness and every emotion beyond that passed across their eyes, dancing and flickering like candles as they passed smoothly into the next image. Whoever said eyes were the window to the soul had clearly had these people in mind.<br/>
This must be how they express emotion, Sung mused. With voices so flat and devoid of soul, their eyes held all the passion their speech could not, and the music strung through the air made up for any gaps. </p><p>It was beautiful. </p><p>He could stay here forever, basking in the bare mountain sun, soaking up the music of this infinitely harmonic society, watching as words played themselves out through the eyes of the winged people. </p><p>He could stay here forever. At least, that was what he thought before he saw him. </p><p>He had paid little attention to the grand palace at the far end of the square, beyond a grand staircase. It was beautiful, but he had had enough awkward experiences with royalty to last him a lifetime. One of his lifetimes, too, which were probably longer than most. But, as his gaze landed on the huge marble staircase leading up to the castle doors, he saw a figure slowly walking up the steps. </p><p>He was a shorter man, surrounded by heavily armoured guards. Unlike the paler colours of most of the people who lived here, his skin was a vibrant, ruby red. Feathers of a dark teal flowed into dazzling white hair that cascaded in an ornate style down his back, noticeably free from wings. He wore an elegant golden circlet upon his head from which delicate golden chains decorated with multicoloured glass hung, perfectly synchronised with the lines of his elaborate hairstyle. His clothes were golden too, clearly a royal or ceremonial dress. He wore a long flowing skirt of what looked like woven gold, tapering into a point behind his knees like bird tail feathers, and a beautifully crafted top strung with the same chains that adorned his hair, made from an impossibly sheer golden fabric. His strong bone structure and facial features were relaxed into a smile and he chatted with a figure next to him, and from what Sung's superior vision would allow him to see, golden sparkles danced across the surface of his eyes. </p><p>And then something in Sung snapped. </p><p>He was vaguely aware of the sense of running, the feeling of his pyjamas flapping around his ankles as he raced down towards the palace. Distant murmurs of concern and confusion passed him by as he ran, crowds parting as he sped down the road. His feet pounded the ground as the force inside of him pushed him forward, running just too fast to be possible for a regular person. He saw and heard nothing but the man in the golden clothes, still slowly and carefully ascending the steps, unaware of the minor chaos behind him. As Sung rapidly approached the castle, he saw almost in slow motion, the guy's head turn to stare at him. He kept running, vaulted over the short wall marking the palace perimeter and ran up the stairs. This guy was IMPORTANT, he was the reason he was here, he had to talk to him and find out-</p><p>Something hit him in the back of the head, and then everything went black.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>annnd there's chapter 3! as always, i would love to hear what you think in the comments below :D things are gonna start picking up from here so hand onto your helmets!! see you in the next one</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. prison</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Doctor Sung woke up on the floor. Again. Also, he noticed, in pain once more. A headache jangled in his skull, a clear remnant of some kind of head injury. His body felt sore, as if he had hit the ground pretty hard at some point. His… wrists and ankles hurt? For some reason? </p><p>He opened his eyes. Oh yeah. That would do it. </p><p>He was chained to a chair in some kind of prison, alone in a room with no windows. And fuck, his favourite pyjamas were gone. He was wearing a white vest and grey shorts. Not really his colour scheme, but not exceedingly uncomfortable. He did wonder where his pyjamas were, but there was no point mourning them now. He supposed they would have made the shackles hurt a lot less. Oh well. </p><p>The door to the room wasn't really a door, but a swinging panel of iron bars that seemed connected to the ground with a sheet of glimmering purple magic. If he stretched out enough, maybe he could reach out and touch it… No. Bad idea, Sung. Unknown technology was easier for him to navigate, but unknown magic? Really not his area of expertise. He could see the elbows of two guards, one on each side of the door. They didn't seem to be wearing the same armour as the ones he had seen before, instead wearing panels of a sleek dark material that looked similar to leather, but not a type that Sung was familiar with. Granted, he wasn't really an expert on the various outputs of cosmic cows, but he reckoned this was something synthetic. Okay, so maybe a surprise stab attack wouldn't be a good idea, assuming he could find something sharp in this very plain cell. Hmm. Diplomacy was still on the table. He called out to his jailers. </p><p>"Hello my good friends! What's up!" he said happily. </p><p>"This is not a conversation opportunity. You are a prisoner." One of them replied in the robotic tone he had come to expect from this planet's inhabitants. </p><p>"Yeah, what's going on with that? I was just going about my day and then suddenly I'm locked up, which as you can imagine is not what I expected to happen." Sung returned. </p><p>"You attempted to assault a member of the Chronan royal family. You are now imprisoned."</p><p>"What? I didn't assault anyone! I wouldn't, I'm a pacifist! I only attack in self defence, it's a core tenet of my-" </p><p>"Please stop asking questions. The Crown Regent will be visiting soon. He will answer any questions you have." the guard finished. </p><p>Sung complied, and shuffled back in the chair, mind reeling with unspoken questions. Who was the Crown Regent? How long was he going to be in here for? Where even was he?<br/>
The one question he was trying not to focus on was the one he most yearned to know the answer to. The man, the red and gold one, the way his face had looked in that split second before Sung saw nothing at all… Something that was that curious, intrigued in its shock, free from the fear that a prince under threat should have, was so compelling to him. He sat and wondered and fidgeted and shuffled and hummed songs in his head while waiting for something to happen. He could tell it hadn't been that long since he awoke here, but it felt like an age. He was so bored. </p><p>A door slammed open down the hallway, and a slow set of footsteps echoed towards him. As the figure came into view in front of the cell door, Sung immediately realised this had to be the red guy's brother. His skin was the same deep turquoise of the feathers on the other's head, where this new individual had feathers of the other's red. His white hair was short where his brother's was long, straight and angular compared to the tumbling waves Sung had seen on Red. He was taller than his sibling, with arcing red wings reaching out from behind him. He wore a smart set of silver armour, and a plain silver circlet, much less fancy and more battle-oriented than Red's ornate clothing. His eyes held an image of rippling grey silk shimmering and rippling across its surface. He stopped and stared at Sung through the bars, strong brow furrowed. </p><p>"I see you're our most recent prisoner. I assume you already know who I am, but according to my men here you are "a little unhinged" so in case you've forgotten, I am Captain Deimos of the Chronofan Army, son of King Kanonis and Queen Seira, Crown Regent to the throne and older brother of the future king. You were neutralised and detained after attempting to harm said Heir Apparent, and your imprisonment is not up for debate. Your trial will occur three days from now. Your guards will inform you when the trial is imminent, and provide you with appropriate dress for the court. You will receive three simple meals a day. After I am done here, the guards will allow you to be freed from the chair. Now, I need your details for administrative purposes. Your cooperation in this matter will help your case in court. Let's get started, shall we? Name and residence, including planet if necessary."</p><p>"Doctor Sung, and I li-" Sung began to answer. </p><p>"Doctor what Sung?" Captain Deimos cut him off, eyes flashing a bright white. </p><p>"It's just Doctor Sung. Thanks. Now where were we? Yes! Location, well-" </p><p>"I need your first name. Under trial you must be referred to properly." Deimos stated, mechanical voice thrumming with frustration. </p><p>"You can just call me Sung, or Doctor Sung if you wanna be professional. I don't mind either way." Sung replied. Deimos sighed a strange robotic sigh and moved on. </p><p>"Right. Doctor Sung it is. Where is your current place of residence?" </p><p>"I have a ship. She's currently moored near a planet in the Flendar system, but I don't know how far-" </p><p>"I will record this as both Off-Planet and No Permanent Residence. Species?" </p><p>Sung inwardly sighed. He hated this question. In all of his journeys across the cosmos, the countless peoples he had met, he had never found anyone that looked like him. Sure, he had a lot of features that were in common with species he had come across, but nobody was ever the same. The main things were his weird eyes, but those could be easily hidden, unlike the spire that grew from the top of his head. He liked to call it his Unicorn Horn, his Spiky Guy, the Oversized Apple Stem, but beyond the jokes it was very noticeable, and not something he was super happy about. It gave off its own light, looking as if it was filled with stars, and whenever he reluctantly used his "weird eye thing" it glowed a bright gold. Wasn't the main reason he didn't tend to use it, but it was one of them. He didn't hate how it looked, wasn't ashamed of it, but part of him wished people would notice him for his actions, his effect on others, the good he tried to do and the things he created first. He didn't like how it was the first thing people perceived of him. And he didn't like this question either, so he stayed silent. </p><p>Deimos stared at him for a few seconds, waiting for an answer, then huffed and asked a different question. </p><p>"Do you understand the crimes of which you have been charged with?" </p><p>"I mean, not really? Everyone keeps acting like I tried to hurt the guy, but I honestly didn't-" </p><p>"You are an outsider on this planet. Outsiders are currently not permitted to enter the Asiminos Citadel. In your scenario, you were judged as a threat to the Heir Apparent, and as such you are charged with treason. Understood?" Deimos stated, voice still a steady deadpan. Sung didn't understand, not really, but he was tired of arguing with this guy. He nodded, and quietly watched as Deimos turned and walked away. </p><p>One of the guards snapped their fingers, and the magical haze on the door flickered and disappeared. One stood outside while the other came in and unlocked the handcuffs with a fingerprint scanner, before leaving and replacing the magical lock. With that, Sung waited. And strategised. </p><p> </p><p>It was night. He wasn't sure how he knew it was night, but he was banking on it being true. He needed the guards to be tired, slightly impatient, and for their instincts to be frayed by their longing to get home. Hoping that he was right, he put his plan into motion. </p><p>He walked over to the room's bed, and ran his fingers down the metal frame. Hollow. Perfect. He reared his head back, and slammed his spire against it with a loud clang. He heard one of the guards startle, and then a muttered "what the hell?". Sung shrugged off the new headache he had received, and lowered his sunglasses. He prepared a medium eye blast, and when the guard turned his way-<br/>
The pull of his magic reached out and gently knocked him unconscious, crashing to the floor with an unceremonious thud. He paused for a second to see if the other guard had noticed, but nothing happened. When he got to the door, he realised why. The guy was asleep on the job. </p><p>Now that the guards were no longer an object, the strange lure inside him started pulling at his mind, puppeteering him over to the door. He felt it grab his arm and drag it upwards, reaching towards the curtain of magic. He tried to fight it, pull his arm back, but all he could do was watch his fingers twist towards it and then-</p><p>The magic disappeared?</p><p>He didn't know what was going on. Yeah, he had some weird knocking out eye powers, whatever, but he wasn't magic. He was just a dude, he couldn't neutralise what appeared to be a powerful forcefield. Usually. Whatever was possessing him was something he had no clue how to deal with, so he let it push the door open using his hand, carry him down the hallway using his legs, take him wherever it wanted him to go. His very limited experience of spirits and inhabitation told him it could be a death sentence to fight back against a demon, so on the off-chance this was something malicious, he just let it happen, trying to guard the depths of his mind from whatever could be prying. </p><p>He felt himself creep down passages, open doors and tiptoe up stairs until he wasn't in the prison anymore, but the corridors of somewhere beautiful he didn't have time to identify. The tide of anticipation inside him rolled as he neared somewhere, the mysterious destination picked out for him. </p><p>It stopped him outside a door, grey in the meagre moonlight. He felt the control over him subside, but curiosity, his curiosity knew he had to enter. He slowly pushed the door and snuck inside. </p><p>He stood in the room, slowly turning to see the grandeur that surrounded him. He was in a huge circular room with curved arcing ceilings that he knew must give the room beautiful acoustics. A sheet of twinkling crystals fell in an ellipse on the far side of the room, surrounding something he couldn't make out through the light reflected in the prisms. The room was lit with green candles set into the walls, casting a dancing warm light scattering across the chamber. He turned to see the door he had just come through, a slab of white marble shot through with gold, and started to push it shut. But before it clicked shut, he heard something. </p><p>"What are you doing?"</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>this took ages to write but its longer than the others so i hope that makes up for it a bit,,, hope you enjoyed!!! thanks for reading :D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. parole</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sung stumbled backwards and spun around at the sound of an unfamiliar voice coming from the crystal circle on the other side of the room. A snap rang through the air and the shining strings lifted up and span into the ceiling, revealing a huge bed, with… </p><p>The man who had awoken the strange feeling inside him, sitting up and staring. No, not just the man, Sung reminded himself. He was the prince of this kingdom. Shit. </p><p>"Ah, sorry to disturb you, my liege. I was simply - uh, cleaning, I didn't mean to wake you so-" </p><p>"You don't have to lie to me. I know who you are." the man said back, in a softer version of the hard monotone the Chronofan people spoke in. He shifted, eyes showing silvery clouds drifting over a purple sky, and Sung prepared to turn on his eyes, or spit out some excuses, or straight up flee. Then his mouth split into a gentle smile. </p><p>"Yeah, you're the guy that ran after me before! I thought you'd be locked up, but I guess they let you off the hook. Pretty cool. I'd feel bad if they put you in jail just for that, it's obvious you weren't gonna hurt me. So what are you doing?" he said with a sleepy grin, idly playing with the long braid that was clearly his sleep hairstyle with long, playful fingers. </p><p>"Uh- shit, actually they did lock me up but- Uh. That didn't last long?" Sung shrugged. The guy's pupiless gaze on him was pretty intense, and for some reason it made him way more nervous than it should. </p><p>"Oh? You got out of the cell? That's pretty impressive, they use weird magic on those. Hmm… You must be pretty powerful and stuff. Come over here, I wanna meet you properly." Sung sighed with relief. The odds of this royal dude just being okay with him escaping from prison were pretty small, but he seemed sincere. Sung crossed the room quickly, and stood by the bed, unsure if he was meant to kneel or something. </p><p>"Formal introductions first, I am Lord Phobos, song of King Kanonis and Queen Seira, Heir Apparent to the throne of the Chronofan Throne, destined descendant of the Iron Wing." he paused and looked over at Sung, eyes shining a dark blue with falling stars. <br/>"Cool, that's done. Hey, I'm Phobos. Good to meet you." he stuck out a red hand towards him. Sung stared at it for a second. Phobos waggled his hand as if to say this is just a handshake, dude. Sung took it, and shook it firmly. <br/>"Doctor Sung, but calling me only Sung is good too. Expert in keytar wielding, experimental high-kicks, and general fucking around. Pleasure."</p><p>"Okay, Only Sung, I'm gonna pretend I know what any of those words mean so we can continue." </p><p>"It's not "Only Sung", it's literally just Su-" Sung interjected before Phobos cut him off. </p><p>"Well I can't sleep, so it'd be cool if you stayed and kept me company, right? I mean, it's either that or back to a cell for you, Only Sung, so I think I know the right decision." Phobos smiled, and matching smiley faces appeared on his eyes, which was only a little creepy and pretty endearing. This was by far the weirdest encounter with a prince (or lord, maybe? The terminology was confusing) Sung had ever had, but he couldn't deny the guy was persuasive. </p><p>"Sure! Don't suppose you have a chair or anything I can sit on, though, because as strong as these legs are I don't really wanna be stood up the whole time." Sung responded. </p><p>"Oh! Yeah, of course, let me just…" Phobos clicked his fingers, and the floor next to the bed suddenly liquified. He raised his pointed finger, pulling the material with it, and flicked his finger in a circle, forcing it into a chair shape. He snapped again, and a yellow cushion fell out of the ceiling somewhere and landed with a soft thump on the seat. Sung stared at him. <br/>"Yeah, everything in this room is made to magically respond to me, so I can do cool stuff. Take a seat." Sung complied. For something made out of the Literal Floor, it was way more comfortable than he had expected. <br/>"Now, let's chat!" Phobos clapped his hands together, and turned to look at him, tiny exclamation marks flickering yellow on grey in his eyes. </p><p>"What did you want to chat about?" Sung asked. </p><p>"Well firstly I really wanted to know how you got here, what your plans are on Chronofos, that kinda thing. You intrigue me, Only Sung." </p><p>"I hate to say it, but for once I don't really know why I'm here? I crash-landed on a beach, and then I came into the city to find help. I actually don't have any clue where this place is." Sung admitted. </p><p>"Huh. That's pretty weird. Well, this is Chronofos, we are part of the Alvaret planet cluster, I don't know if you know where that is, but we aren't the most cosmically mobile people so it tracks that you wouldn't have heard of us before. Here, take a look at this." he tapped the small table next to the bed and rummaged inside. He took out a small golden sphere engraved with symbols in a language Sung had never seen before. </p><p>"What do the symbols mean?" Sung asked. </p><p>"Oh, shit, yeah. I forgot you wouldn't be able to read Chronofan. Our voices translate everything we say into a language the other person knows, so I just get used to thinking that they know how to read it too. These symbols are from an ancient writing system we used millenia ago, but we still use them for certain things. Look, this one here means "life"." Phobos traced his finger over one of the symbols carefully. He handed the sphere to Sung. His fingers were cold as they brushed his hand and dropped the artifact in his palm. It was surprisingly light as he cradled it in his hands. "Now if you tap the outside three times, something cool should happen."  Sung tentatively tapped it, and on the third tap he felt the ball shake slightly, and then release a trail of purple sparks that fizzed into the air, before falling into a glittering picture that was almost diagram-like in its precision. It showed the planet he had landed on, mountains crowning it like he had seen from the beach. Phobos reached out and swiped the image, zooming it out till the planet was set toylike in its solar system, twin moons spinning around it as if they were chasing each other. He zoomed out further, and span the image to show the galaxy he lived in, and out further and further until Sung recognised it as a map of this certain section of the universe, one which he had rarely visited. He scrolled and zoomed around, playing with the image it created, seeing the bright lights reflected in Phobos's glassy eyes. </p><p>"If you wanted, you could find where you're from on here. It might not be as accurate as the data for here, but…" Phobos trailed off, looking to Sung as if to gauge his reaction. Sung just stared forwards. Not this again. </p><p>He didn't want to talk about how it felt knowing that he didn't have a place in the universe. Phobos' life was as far as it could be from his meandering existence. He had a family, a brother who was protective of him, a whole planet full of people that treasured him. What did Sung have, other than his own stubbornness and tenacity? He just wandered alone, with no family to ever even remember. He blinked and squeezed his eyes shut behind his shades. No way was he letting this guy see him cry this soon after meeting him. He felt a stray rebellious tear push its way out of his eye and roll down his cheek. He screwed his eyes further shut, his spare hand clenching into a fist. Stop crying, Sung. Stop it. You're stronger than this. Just stop crying, nobody wants to hear your pity. Stop it! </p><p>"... Sung?" Phobos said softly. "Did I say something wrong? If you don't want to talk about it, that's okay, but if you do… that's alright too." He put his hand out and tentatively placed it on Sung's clenched hand. </p><p>It was this tiny movement, the sign of solidarity, the knowledge someone was listening to him and cared, even as basically a complete stranger, that unravelled something within him. Sung began to cry fully and completely, fat tears rolling down his face. He stood, body shaking with the last of his pride that dissolved until he was sobbing. He was aware of Phobos' eyes on him, and tried to choke out an explanation. </p><p>"It's just- I've never had a home or. Known where I come from and I've never had a family so I- fuck, I don't know what it's like to- and I know you won't get it because you have a family and a kingdom and you don't know how it feels to not have a place in the world an-"</p><p>"Hey. What would you say if I told you I know exactly how you feel?" Phobos looked up at him, his eyes showing crashing waves on a tropical shore. Sung stopped, the shame rolling over him receding. </p><p>"What?" he whispered, voice thick with the husk of tears. </p><p>"Wait a second." Phobos slowly moved himself over to the far side of the bed, adjusted his gold bedrobe, and patted the space next to him. "If we're gonna have a heart to heart, it's happening up here." Sung crawled up onto the bed, wiping the tears from his eyes and trying not to sniffle too much. </p><p>"I don't know how your mind works, I don't even know you, really. I do think I know what you think of me. The common image of the lauded royal isn't something I consider myself exempt from. But, I want to tell you the truth, and so that requires a little storytelling." <br/>Phobos tapped the other nightstand in a precise rhythmic pattern, and a drawer slid open, holding two golden cups with plumes of steam curling off them. "You like coffee?" Phobos asked. Sung nodded, and gratefully took the cup. Although the liquid inside was scalding hot, the cup itself was pleasantly warm in his hands. He took a sip. It was good coffee, with slight chocolate undertones. Best he'd had in- shit, how long had it been? He paused his musing as Phobos began to speak. </p><p>"It starts two million years ago. The story of my people is the story of gods."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. legend</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Ever since the dawn of time, this part of the universe was a kind of celestial battleground. When gods were created, from the spare energy left over from the universe's creation, somehow, where there was meant to be one god, there were two. Born mortal enemies, their battle began at the same time they did."</p><p>
  <em> A figure the size of galaxies stands poised to fight. They are made of darkness, a titan seemingly crafted from countless black holes. Their impossibly dark form is adorned with jewellery and chains of glowing blue light. They raise their hands above their head in a dancer's stance, and twin scimitars of the same electric blue shimmers into their hands. Their blank silhouette of a face shows no expression, but their pose is filled with mirth and mischievous laughter.</em>
</p><p>"One was named Kotarak, the Shadow Dancer. Their movements were as fast as lightning, and their deadly scimitars were too. They believed this part of the universe was theirs by birthright."</p><p>
  <em>Another figure stands across from them, a man glinting with the light of a million crystals. His sharp, polygonal face is set with a stoic, guarded expression as the infinite crystalline facets of his form shift hues and shape. A pair of huge wings rise from his back like a halo. He closes his eyes and begins to hum, a tone that resonates with the stars reflected in the shining prisms that create him.</em>
</p><p>"The other was Adainos, the Stone Singer. And he believed the same."</p><p>
  <em> Sparks fizz and spiral outwards as the shadow attacks, sword met halfway by a red wall of sound. The opposing magics strain against each other, and suddenly the wall is pushing forward, streaking towards the target as the crystal one unleashes a barrage of cosmic birdsong. The shadow one's other blade slices through the attack in a discordant instant, and they push forward.</em>
</p><p>"The two were matched in power in every way, one's offence the perfect foil to the other's defence. Because of this, neither of them could win or lose, so their battle went on for billions of years. Obviously gods can't die from normal means, or get tired, since they don't physically exist on the same plane as us, so the universe around them grew. But, over time, their clash affected their surroundings. The anger of their battle leaked into our world, and on the planets close by, plants withered and died, and any societies on them either destroyed themselves through their own wars, or became sick from the effects of their proximity to the fight."</p><p>
  <em> "Look at what you are doing to these mortals by carrying on here. If you were to surrender to me now, think of how many worlds you would save." the shadow one taunted, lunging forward in a sudden burst. The crystal one blocked it with a shield crafted of haunting music. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Do not forget that you too are causing this. Your attempt to rile my spirit with guilt will not succeed." he returned. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"It is not my decision that you decided to infringe on my territory. Your actions have consequences, my friend." </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"I am not your friend."</em>
</p><p>"While Kotarak fought with little regard to the lives of the people around them, over the many years the emotional strain took a toll on Adainos. He could no longer look away from people's suffering. And from this, his fighting began to suffer too."</p><p>
  <em>The blade comes at him, faster than he was expecting. He tries to raise a shield against it, but his movements are not the same as they should be. The sparks graze his side, and he winces as he feels it burn away at his spirit.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> "Are you tired, old man? Will you surrender now, or keep fighting until one day I kill you?" the shadow one says. The crystal one does not reply. He steadfastly avoids looking at the place where the blade hit, but he knows exactly what has happened. Around the wound, free from any mortal blood, the sharp angles of his skin are softened, dulled. It nauseates him.</em>
</p><p>"He began to lose sight of who he was. His form changed beyond recognition as his pain, both physical and mental, warped him. He knew he was going to lose. But, he refused to simply waste away. He saved his energy for one final act of defiance."</p><p>
  <em> He closes his eyes. Focuses. The swelled edges of his body begin to sharpen, define. The pale, weak flitting of colours across him stops. </em>
</p><p>"He wanted to leave his mark on the world, and knew of only one way he could do it."</p><p>
  <em> His body fills with a deep dark red, a huge towering figure of phantasmal ruby. His wings rise up behind his back, resplendent and regal. He inhales. Exhales. Takes one more breath, and begins to sing. </em>
</p><p>"The note he sang was something the universe had never heard before. It shattered him into millions of tiny pieces. But his soul was still intact inside them."</p><p>
  <em>The fragments of him hang there in an aching slow motion. He feels his essence straining as he drifts, little red lights glowing in the rays of distant stars. No. He will not give in yet. He tugs as every piece, and they snap to attention, whirling and swirling together until-</em>
</p><p>"Adainos took his final form. A small red bird, glowing with all the fury that had built up over the years. And then, he attacked."</p><p>
  <em>He flies at his enemy, claws and beak sharp with vengeance. As his charge hits, the two gods are destroyed. Once again, the crystal one is split apart. This time, his soul does not make it. Crystal shards fall from where he was. Down and down they tumble, down to a lonely planet where no person has ever lived. As the pieces hit the ground they are transformed. They are no longer crystal shards, but eggs.</em>
</p><p>"Nobody knows what happened to Kotarak's soul. The theory is that they are still alive somewhere, but Adainos' final stand was enough to weaken them to a point where any influence they had was gone. As for him, he… supposedly disappeared. You probably already guessed that the eggs he created were my ancestors. Most eggs were like regular eggs, coloured shells, but a few of them were still made of crystal. Those would turn out to be the Chronofan royal family, blessed with greater influence from Adainos himself. Well, as far as the old beliefs go. There were tales of the true heir to Adainos, born of red crystal as he was in his final moments, but nobody ever really believed them. They said that his soul was gone, living on in our people, but gone. That was, at least, until…"</p><p>Phobos' voice trailed off. Sung looked up at him, and saw him looking at his hands. He watched as his hands moved to the neckline of his robe, parting it slightly. Embedded into his chest, seamlessly flowing from his skin, was a huge red crystal. It looked like it was made from him, but Sung thought it seemed like it could be the other way around.</p><p>"When I was born, they were scared at first. They didn't know what this thing meant, until it clicked. They called me The Rebirth, the child of the god that created us, the answer to all our people's problems." Phobos said, hand idly tracing the gem's sharp vertices. "You probably noticed that my brother, Deimos, is older than me. For hundreds of years, before I was born, he was the heir to the kingdom. But the arrival of who they saw to be the reincarnation of our god changed that, and I became Lord Phobos. Heir to the throne. And understandably, my brother was angry. So angry, he began to hate the sight of me."</p><p>Sung put his hand on Phobos' shoulder. Phobos turned his head quickly, and then smiled back at Sung. His eyes flashed a warm yellow in gratitude.</p><p>"My brother's hatred for me didn't get bad until we were older. When I was younger, he was a great brother. He cared about me. I guess time must have washed away the novelty of having a baby brother, and the reality, that I had stolen his future, set in. The attitude towards me from my parents changed too. They became disappointed in me. The fact is, I never wanted any of this. I don't think I was destined for a higher purpose or anything. I don't feel like I'm a royal at all, let alone any of the other stuff. My brother is different, he has a head for this stuff, diplomacy, law, military. I've never been interested in anything, except - " He stopped himself. Sung felt him tense under his hand upon his shoulder.</p><p>"You can tell me. Whatever it is, I won't tell anyone, I mean, it's not like I really have anyone to tell here, I'm a prisoner! I promise I won't judge you." Sung encouraged, patting his shoulder.</p><p>"No, it's not that, it's just… I haven't ever said this out loud before. Oh man, okay." he stopped.</p><p>"It sounds stupid, but, uh, I've…</p><p> </p><p>… always wanted to be a musician."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. laughter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>cw for illness/medical and possibly mild body horror for this chapter</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"You have? Me too!" Sung cried. "Dude, if you just wanna leave this whole prince thing behind, we could start a band or something, play shows all across the universe, make awesome music…" he enthused.</p>
<p>"Ah… I'd love to do that, but… I<br/>I don't think I can. For a few reasons, I mean, not just the 'whole prince thing', I wouldn't be able to anyway." Phobos said sadly. "I wish I could. I play, in secret, and it's the only real thing that I've ever found real passion in. But I genuinely can't chase that." he finished. As he spoke, his eyes filled with grey, shot through with little red points prickling through them, surface shiny. Sung realised this was Phobos' way of having tears in his eyes, and now it was his turn to look as the prickling intensified, fizzing like static on a screen.</p>
<p>"If there's a reason why, I can try and help you. As much as I look like a big dummy, I can be pretty good at solving problems, if you'd have me. But also, you honestly don't have to tell me if you don't want to." Sung told him.</p>
<p>"It's okay. I can talk about it. I'm actually pretty surprised you didn't already ask about it, since it's kinda noticeable." Phobos smiled, and continued.<br/>"You probably noticed that everyone here has wings, right? A bit of our heritage showing through. You also probably noticed that I don't have any. Well, there's a reason for that."<br/>Phobos took a sip of his coffee. Reminded of the cup's presence in his hands, Sung did the same.<br/>"A little while back, I got sick. They didn't know what was wrong with me, since nobody had ever seen the things that happened to me before. One of my wing feathers started to lose its colour, and turned grey. Then the one next to it, then the two next to that, then… well, it just kept spreading. When the feathers turned grey, they died, and fell off. Our feathers aren't just for decoration, they aren't detached like hair or something, they are as alive as the rest of us. So understandably everyone was worried. Even my brother. The medics said that if the decay got to the rest of me, it would start to slowly destroy me. The loss of a lot of my feathers was already taking a huge toll on me - I couldn't find the strength to move, or speak, or do anything. So they made the decision. My wings had to go."</p>
<p>"Holy shit, Phobos. That's- oh man, that…"<br/>Sung tried to think of a response. Phobos chuckled.<br/>"Yeah, it's not the chillest story out there. Luckily, despite almost dying, the surgery was pretty good, and they managed to stop the sickness spreading. I was too out of it to be sad about losing my wings, and I'm glad they did what they did. The thing is that I haven't fully recovered yet. I still get tired a lot, and the medics say it's best for me to not overexert myself. So in other words… I'm never gonna be a rock star. And I've come to terms with that, so it's okay, really. Don't worry about me." Phobos finished. He stared at Sung. "Don't look so sad. My life is fine. I have so much more than I need here."</p>
<p>"Well, buddy, I'm proud of you for sharing. I feel like I should be spilling something now to make it even." Sung said after a pause.</p>
<p>"Oh, you're gonna tell me a secret? You should. I'm good at keeping them." Phobos said quickly.</p>
<p>"I wasn't necessarily going to tell a secret but I feel like I gotta now…"</p>
<p>"Come on!"</p>
<p>"Fine! Sure. Okay. Just like your secret music love, I haven't talked about this before so it's a little weird. There's something I can do that nobody else can do. I can try and demonstrate, but I'll have to be careful… watch this."</p>
<p>Sung closed his eyes and took off his sunglasses. He opened his eyes a crack, and switched on his gaze. Immediately he turned it off, and looked to Phobos. His eyes were filled with fizzing dark green static, and his head slumped back on the pillows. Phobos blinked, and sat up with a jolt.</p>
<p>"Whoa. That was you?"</p>
<p>"Yeah. I tried to give you the lowest amount I could, b-"</p>
<p>"How did you learn how to do this?"</p>
<p>"What? I didn't- I'm not into any kind of weird stuff, I promise, I'm-"</p>
<p>"It's okay. I was just wondering. We are pretty magical as far as planets go, but I haven't seen anything like this before, or read about it."</p>
<p>"Oh. Well, I've always been able to do it, so I guess I never really learned? It's just a thing I can do."</p>
<p>"Woah." Phobos breathed. "You- you know that natural magic is really really rare, right? Like, one in a generation rare. There is nobody on this planet who can do it. Well, only one, anyway."<br/>Sung looked at Phobos, who ducked his head away from his gaze.</p>
<p>"Hey Phobos?"</p>
<p>"Hi."</p>
<p>"What magic can you do." Sung stated rather than asked.</p>
<p>"I never said I could do anything! I just…" Sung narrowed his eyes. "Fine!" Phobos exclaimed. "There's a thing that only I can do, as well. But it makes sense for me, I am the successor to the throne of an inherently magical people, and probably the- it makes more sense for me than you…"</p>
<p>"Show me! Please?" Sung begged.</p>
<p>"Fine. It's not really a show type of thing, but okay. Can you, uh, hum or sing or something? Sorry. I know it's a weird request."</p>
<p>Sung tugged his smile shut and began to hum, a slightly wobbly but strong note. As he felt the warm buzz of it upon his lips, he heard the wobble fade out of it. Huh. Looks like he had improved hi-</p>
<p>The sound coming from him was changing. It was getting higher, slowly, the tone becoming more resonant. It barely sounded like a hum anymore, more like a chime, higher than any reasonable hum could produce. Then Phobos moved his hand slightly and it changed again. It was low now, a deep rumbling like rocks over a mountain.</p>
<p>Sung was shocked, but kept humming, hearing the shape of the sound change and morph. And then the sound stopped. He was still humming, he could feel it. The sound just wasn't coming out. He looked at Phobos.</p>
<p>
  <em>What's going on, Phobos?</em>
</p>
<p>"Sorry, I can't hear you, Only Sung. You need to speak up." A slow smile spread over his face.</p>
<p>
  <em>You- come on! You muted my fucking voice? Dude!</em>
</p>
<p>"Hmm. If only I could read lips. What a shame. I wonder what you could be saying…</p>
<p>
  <em>Let me speak!</em>
</p>
<p>"Well, if you insist."</p>
<p>As Sung yelled, the sound came flooding back.</p>
<p>"can't SPEAK, what th- oh. Huh. I <em>can</em> speak."</p>
<p>"Oh! Why didn't you do that before?"</p>
<p>"Oh my- anyway." Sung laughed. "That was really, really awesome. So you can change sound?"</p>
<p>"Pretty much. Pitch, volume, a couple of other things I'm not sure how to describe. I can change where it comes from, sometimes, but it's more difficult. It isn't the <em>most</em> useful power, not like yours, but it's fun to mess around with."</p>
<p>"Hell yeah, dude. Put it there." Sung held up his hand for a high five. He laughed as the resulting clap came out slow and muddy.</p>
<p>He laughed more, throughout the night, as he and Phobos drank coffee, and later on, an unusual herbal tea when they realised they should try and sleep soon. They shared stories from their childhoods, like Phobos' first failed attempt at flight, and Sung's too big kid pyjamas. Sung told Phobos about some of the planets he had visited, and what it was like there, in amongst furious sonic battles where Phobos would mess with Sung's voice until Sung would threaten to give him "the old eye zap". They talked about music, and their dreams and their fears, late into the night. And when Sung's eyes blurred with sleep, Phobos offered him his extra blanket. They fell asleep, lazy with casual companionship, nightstands strewn with empty cups, blissfully unaware of the world around them.</p>
<p>The world that was about to end.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. l̪͉̥͓͑͌̓́i̝͇̕͘st̲̻̙̗͊̉̐͆e̠̽̂͟n̩͓͌̕ī̡̜̭̪͒͛͠n̛̻͈̳̳̐̋͊ḡ̦͓̠̑͟͡͝</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>She watches as the tiny spark dims on the doomed planet.</span>
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  <span> She sees as its yellow light flickers in rest.</span>
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  <span> She watches as the darkness reaches its sadistic tendrils toward the tiny green marble sitting placidly among the stars. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>S̖͓̽̍ĥ̼̦̣́̎e̢̛̥̺̎̓ watches the darkness d̢̯͔͊̒̍ȃ̫̖̰̃̾ͅn͙̘̤̯͚̉̄̈́c͔̤̹͇̔̅̈͗̚͟e̲͈̞̊̏̐ towards its target. </span>
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  <span>Ŝ̢̰͎̕͘ẖ͙̺̹͊͌̐͠ȩ͇̦̎̎͆͜ ͉͢͞͝s̛͈̞̥̓̈́e̡͔̕ţ͎̐̉s̞͘ ͕̮̎̈̈͟h̢͉͋̒̎͢e̦̍́̎̿͟͜ͅr̻̤̼̈͒̚ ̢̲̿͒n̝̽e͓͈̹͒̂̎e̓͟d͇͡l͔̓ȇ̢̼ to the side.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> Hmm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So̜m̝̾e̦̰͂͊o̝̓ṅ̡̡̗̖̠̾̅̕ě͎̙͍͍́̃̚ ̞̙̩̂͠͡is watching. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>S̛̩͚̰̯͛̃͞ơ̡̖̻̙̌̂͞m̹̪͚̥͍̄͑͂̆͆ḛ̣̣͛̿̉͝ͅò̬̦ṉ͎̞̹̂̄̓͌e ̖̄i͍̕ͅs̟͍̥̫̃̽͛̒̓͢ ̮̠̪̍̈w͖̹̜̐͊̚ä̦̘̜̩̣͋̔͛̚ṯ͞c̡̒h͎̰̜͐̏̓̿͜i̙͌n̢͛g̺̖̀͠.̢̤̟̥̺̊͋̇͑ ̦̅</span>
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  <span>S̢̨̡̳̗͈̤͎͎̲̥̒͂̒̾̏͗͑̀͒̅̔͊͘͟ͅǒ̧͓̹̳͈̪͓̻̦̞̮͓̱̫͖̮̪̙̝̩͔͆̑̀̆̉̓̽́̈́́́̆̎̑́̆͡͡͝m̢̢̧̼̮͔̗͇̲͚͓̣̥͖͙̤͍̭̣͔̬̼̗͒̐̑̏̓̄͊̀̾̄̏̿̃̌̈͒̓̀̋̍̊̚͢͜͠͝ȩ̨̧̟͍̯̣͍̹̟͍͕͉͓͙͇̦̪̬̯̰̜̺̺̮̭͖͍̜̗͔̺̞̯̦̘̎̓̔͌̔̇͒̋̓͊̄̉͋̍̂̅̍͂̒͆̍̒͗̅̃̾̈͑̕̕͘̕͟͡͡ơ̢̡̡̧̛̗̻̳̺͔͎̗̘͎̘̪͔̙̼͂̂͊͋̂́̆̄͊̇̅̅͋͡͡͠n̛͓̥͈͎̙̣͈̠̤̝͚͎̟̻̳̮̭̩̺̟̬̺̞̰͕͉̣̳̹̳̓͆̋̄̈̋̋̿̅̈́̔͒̈́̍̾͒͊̒̂̊̒͋̑̈́̽͋̚̚̚͢ę̢̡̨̼̠̟̙̤̯̥͈̙̦̺̰̻̰̦̩̠̥̻̥̯̳̝̬̱̲̼̗͔̬̫͍̘̘̈̏̌̑̽̉̿͌̐͑͗̀́͑̇̇̉̔͑̋̈́̊̏̓̔̋̒͐͌̀̆̿̍̿̎̿̎̐̕͢͢͜͝͡͞͠ͅͅ ̧̧̧̨̡̛͎͈͙̜͓̰̭̤̱̯̥̩͈͎̻̱̞̥̭̭̓́̇͐̍̔̂̂͆̓͂̆̾͒̎̈́͗̌̈̚̕͢͟͜͡͞͞i̢̡̛͎̠̥̯̘̫̮̮̥̯̺̝̺̲̬͖̹̍͒̍̌͑̆͆̂̍̾͊̂͛̅̉͡s̢̢̡̡̛͕̤̰̺̺̮̘̯͉̰͈̤͇̩̲̹͙͎̞̤̟̖͔̹̤̜̤̖̼͎̺̞̫͍̟̦̱̣̣̏̈̋̊̐̾̽̈́͐̂̉̇̌̅̓̈́̎̋̇̏̋̆́̐̆̇̒̿̾̈́̃̿̍̐̾͑̉̋̕͘͘̚͘͜͜͟͠͡ ̢̢̧̢̢̨̡̧̛̛͕̣̲̖͍̺͙͖̣͕̙͔̖̫̻̯̬̗̹̤̙̦̳̣͚̼̬͓̼͚͈̼͙̟̉̿̌͐͐̔͌͂̄̈́̍̔́̆̾̎̂̿̍̾̐̉̏͋̐̂͒̂̃͑̍̅̓͂́̑̑̊͐̍̚͜͟͜͟͠͝ͅw̢̡̛͕͈̻̙̩̤̮̹̗̠̯͍̰͙͈̼͓̼͓͕̝̝̜̼͙̺̩͑̑̉̒͑̾͋̓̀̒̀̌͛̄̄̅̀̌͋͊̏̾͆͘̚͜͜͝͠͝͠ͅa̮̖̝̍͆̾̄͢t̨̧̢̧̬̯͓̱̗̖̣̼̜̥̰̹͇̳̞̪̥̦͇͉̻̲̻̖̼̜̗̻͍̼̣̻̩̠͙͕̲͔͔̥̮̹̾͊͐̓̅̋͋̐̊̇̏̔̋̔͊͊͂̿̄̍͂͂̐̍̇̊̓̒̿́̓̽̉̓̂̔̇̏̎̐͛̚͘͢͟͠͝͡͝c̢̳̆̇h̢̢̧̢̩̬͍̟̻̖͍͕̰̱͔͇̺͇͚̬̮͓͇̞̤̝̙͕̤̮͛́͐̐̒̾̿̿̈̊̎̍̍̊͆̀̾̉̽̋̄̐̉̅̚̚͟͝͠͡͡͝͞ͅͅǐ̥̪͔̟̼̮͎̭̣̠̝̺̞͙̣͗͌̄̐͛͌͌͗̓͌͘̕͟͞͠͡ņ̧̢̧̛̛̮͈̳̤̩̻̮͉̞̻̳̰̦̖͔̥̟̱̬̗̼̭̫͍̰͔̖̭͈͍͉̫̰͍̮͇͉̑͑̑̇̑̄͊̐̉̆͑̍̄̋̒̍̎́̂̈́͒̈́͌̃̅̏̿̓͊̽̃̔͘̕͜͟͡͡͝͝͡͞g̨̼͔͈̮͛̂̐͂͞.̧̨̢̧͎͙̟̖̬͙̣̗̬̱̺̠̲̤͈̟͓̘̙̫̖̣̲̜͓̞͔̪͑̄̔̆̉͑͐͒̓̔̓͐͐͋̔̊̈́͆̽̌̍͗͆̿̍̂̂̈̆̚͢͡͠͝ͅͅ ̧̛̛̝͈̤̯̠̭͙͎̣̰͙̘̣̦̦͇͍͍̺̜̤̰͕͓̠͓̮̄̉̔̐͒̊͒̂̂̑̀̄͒̓̍̎͂̓̍́̇͐̓̚̕͢͜͠͞͠</span>
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</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hello.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> Yes. I am talking to you. </span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You think you are a bystander in this story, hm? </span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Very well. Continue your naivety, if you wish. </span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What's that? Why am I talking to you? </span>
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  <span>I don't much like people listening into me. What I decide to do is of little concern to you mortal beings, surely. </span>
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  <span>I want you to tell me. If there's anything you know about this criminal plotting to undo my hard work. I would love to hear it. </span>
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  <span>You won't speak? </span>
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  <span>Very well. </span>
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  <span>I will have to take matters into my own hands. </span>
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</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everyone will die.</span>
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  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. leaving</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Doctor Sung woke up under a blanket silky smooth on his skin. He woke up with a feeling of incredible and powerful dread. </p>
<p>He shook himself awake and roused Phobos. </p>
<p>"Come on, wake up, man, we have to go. Now." he patted his shoulder insistently. </p>
<p>"Huh? Sung? What's… happening?" </p>
<p>"I don't know, but it's something bad. Please, we have to leave, dude."</p>
<p>"Okay, just-uh okay, let me just…" Phobos sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He stopped, and looked over at Sung. <br/>"I don't know if-" </p>
<p>"Can I carry you?" Sung interrupted. Phobos nodded, and Sung ran over, scooping him up. He was pretty light, and Sung was relieved. He didn't know how long he'd have to hold him for. </p>
<p>Sung kicked open the bedroom door as Phobos winced, and ran out into the hallway. </p>
<p>The window across from the door was slightly open. It was early morning, birds chirped from the treetops, and the fresh coldness of dawn laced the air. </p>
<p>Except the sky was black. </p>
<p>"What the fuck…" Phobos whispered. "This-this isn't… what is going on?"</p>
<p>As they stared out of the window, a crash sounded from down the hall. Thick tendrils of darkness spilled in through the furthest window, reaching through the air towards them. </p>
<p>Sung runs. </p>
<p>He tries to ignore Phobos trembling in his arms, focusing on the feeling of his feet hitting the ground. "Hey, I don't wanna make you worry more than you are already but, uh… do you know where my pod is? Just in case."</p>
<p>"Which one?" Phobos whispers. </p>
<p>"Wh- there was more than one? Shit, it's just a pod, it's pretty plain-" </p>
<p>"Should both be in the hangar. We don't use it at all, so…" Phobos' breath catches in his throat. </p>
<p>"Okay. Point me the way, dude." Sung replies between breaths. </p>
<p>He doesn't think, he just focuses on the weight of Phobos in his arms, the heaving of his chest as he tries to maintain his breath, the point of his new friend's hand as it shows the way and suddenly he is light as air itself. Leaping down stairs as if he wouldn't feel the landing, racing down endless stone hallways as the void rolls behind him, a relentless encroaching wave of fear. He runs and runs and runs until-</p>
<p>he can't. </p>
<p>A wall of fire blocks the path, pillars crumbled and cracked amongst the flames. Dead end. He spins around to look at the corridor he just ran through. Clear. Except-</p>
<p>A puff of black energy curls around the corner, then another. He doesn't have long. He scans the hallway, panicked. Okay. A plan. </p>
<p>"Phobos. This window- we need to jump." he puts him down and runs over to the window, frantically opening it. </p>
<p>"I can't."</p>
<p>"You have to, th-wait, there's someone down there! HEY!" Sung yells. The figure is sat on the cliff below, staring at the sky in fear. He turns and looks up at them, a tall man with a head too big for his body.</p>
<p>"WE NEED TO JUMP!" Sung shouts. The man sticks out his arms, and runs over, now directly under the window. He looks back. The fog is about halfway to them. Shit. "Okay Phobos. The guy's gonna catch you, alright?" </p>
<p>"Sung, please, you know I can't do this, I don't think I'm strong enough yet, I-" </p>
<p>"YOU HAVE TO! Fucking hell, dude, can't you see this castle is about to collapse?" </p>
<p>Phobos stands there. </p>
<p>"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have yelled, but please, we don't have long." Sung says quickly, panic rising in his voice. </p>
<p>"Okay." Phobos walks to the window, staring down at the ground below. </p>
<p>And then he is gone. </p>
<p>Sung looks down, sees the stranger place Phobos down gently on the ground, and wildly gesture up to him. Okay, Sung. Let's go. </p>
<p>He steps up to the window. He takes a breath. Looks behind him. Orange flames to the left, darting and snapping. Black tendrils to the right, glinting with malevolent malice. He turns back around. </p>
<p>He jumps. </p>
<p>He sees the ground rushing towards him. </p>
<p>Then he sees nothing. </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
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<p>He hears a voice he has never heard before. She is humming a haunting tune, sighing to herself. </p>
<p>He hears the click of scissors. </p>
<p>"Nearly there." she says.</p>
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